Chapter 156: Here Stand Scores of Cold Mountains; Choose One to Be the Seventh Mountain
Swift spring easterly winds bring a gentle rain, and light thunder rumbles both inside and outside Yanchun Lane.
The rich aroma of wine wafted out from the tavern, lingering around the tip of the nose, yet Meng Po felt not the slightest urge to taste it.
When that hulking figure blocking the doorway, whose eyes beneath the silver mask gazed at him with detached indifference and coldness, an inexplicable sense of pressure suddenly swept over his entire body, causing his muscles to involuntarily stiffen.
That was a muscular instinct, a primal reaction upon encountering the gaze of a formidable expert who had killed countless lives.
Meng Po had never expected that after learning the news of An Le leaving Taiwei Lane, he had rushed over in high spirits, even using the lives of everyone in the tavern as a battle post, only for An Le to still refuse his challenge, tossing out merely a puppet instead...
A puppet?
Was it a living person or... a lifeless object?!
Meng Po stared heavily at the bulky puppet, a flurry of thoughts churning in his mind.
What did it mean by not bullying him, that he must first defeat the puppet before he could challenge An Le?
Was An Le so confident in this puppet?
In his spiritual perception, the aura of this puppet... seemed to be merely at the Fifth Realm.
A Fifth Realm puppet without independent consciousness was fundamentally nothing to worry about!
Meng Po's eyes, shrouded beneath black mist, revealed a trace of chilling intent.
"Playing God and acting like a ghost, no matter what kind of puppet you are, I will slash and shatter everything!"
"I am the number one on Xiliang's Demon-Inquiring Board, having climbed to this realm through countless brushes with life and death. Within the Fifth Realm, I am invincible!"
Beneath the black mist, a blood-red long saber materialized.
As he gripped the saber and lifted it slightly, the raindrops falling from the narrow sky above the alley grazed the edge of the blood-colored blade, being easily sliced into two halves!
The black mist suddenly exploded, as if melting into individual raindrops, hiding among the interwoven curtains of rain as if vanishing from the mortal world, and charged toward the massive battle puppet blocking the doorway!
Thud!
Suddenly.
The rain in front of the battle puppet exploded!
A blood-colored saber was abruptly blocked by a dark iron heavy bow, snatched from behind the puppet at an unknown moment.
A tremendous force surged from the swung heavy bow. Meng Po's pupils contracted; such force... was like a collapsing mountain, the piled-up boulders smashing down—it was simply not a power that the Fifth Realm should possess!
The blood-red saber was forced down against Meng Po's shoulder, his body sent flying backward as his back smashed through the pouring rain, creating a mist of water droplets like swirling water vapor.
His body landed on the rain-slicked bluestone ground of the alley, sliding backward and leaving two inverted triangular water trails in its wake.
He couldn't get in!
Meng Po wanted to bypass An Le's puppet, storm into the tavern, and force An Le to make a move.
Yet, the defensive line forged by that puppet was a barrier he simply could not break through!
How could this be...
Within the Fifth Realm, he, Meng Po, was by no means weak. He dared to claim invincibility in the Fifth Realm because he naturally possessed the foundation for it, even though he was well aware that in terms of true, absolute Fifth Realm invincibility, he still fell slightly short.
For true Fifth Realm invincibility ought to belong to the Yuanmeng Empire.
Still, it was impossible that he couldn't even breach the defensive line created by a Fifth Realm puppet!
Rainwater fell upon Meng Po's body, and he turned his head to look toward the tavern window. There, An Le was leisurely sipping a pot of aged yellow wine specially warmed by the proprietress, accompanied by a small dish of peanuts.
His eyes were filled with... nothing but mockery.
That mockery caused a surging killing intent to rise in Meng Po's heart, making his mind instantly feel as though it were turning frantic.
Every genius on the Demon-Inquiring Board had a slightly abnormal psyche, a mental will gradually distorted by the long-term, high-pressure environment teetering between life and death.
Bang!
The rainwater on the ground exploded. Meng Po gripped the blood-red long saber, a mad smile plastered across his face, and lunged with large strides toward the window where An Le was located!
Swoosh!
A wave of wind and thunder roared against his eardrums!
Meng Po had only taken a few steps when the smile on his face abruptly froze.
Within his pupils, an arrow was hurtling forward at lightning speed, piercing through individual raindrops with wind and thunder embedded in its arrowhead!
Most importantly... that speed was simply too fast!
Even the pouring rain could not obstruct the speed of the arrow by the slightest fraction!
His mastery of time, his seizure of the right moment, his control over the inertia of his body's movements... were simply flawless and beyond criticism.
Meng Po's body happened to be at the exact moment when his old momentum had just faded and his new strength had yet to be born.
The arrow pierced straight through!
Puff!
An arrow pierced through Meng Po's shoulder, wind and thunder exploding and tearing away a chunk of shattered flesh. The arrow passed clean through his body, carrying with it a lingering force that slammed viciously into the ground, pinning it and cracking the bluestone pavement into a dense spiderweb of fissures.
Droplets of bright red blood were instantly washed away by the torrential rain.
Meng Po still wore a frozen smile on his face as he stared at his pierced shoulder, though a growing sense of crisis began to climb in his heart.
The sounds of wind and thunder rang out in rapid succession!
The twanging sound of the bowstring being pulled taut and then released made Meng Po's hair stand on end.
Daring not to run further, he held the blood-red long saber horizontally across his chest. Arrow after arrow, interwoven and shooting forth with wind and thunder coiled around them, slammed viciously against the blood-red long saber.
Amidst flying sparks, every single arrow struck the exact same position!
The staggered rhythm of the arrows coming in quick succession left Meng Po utterly incapable of even shifting his stance.
The force contained within the arrows forcefully drove him back step by step. With the blood-red long saber pressed against his chest, every single arrow impact sent a terrifying burst of kinetic energy straight through the blade and deep into his body.
A mouthful of blood spewed forth!
What... what kind of monster is this?!
Meng Po's heart seized with panic, his pupils shrinking to pinpricks. It was merely the Fifth Realm, yet the pressure it exerted upon him was actually greater than that of a Sixth Realm expert!
However, Meng Po was no weakling; taking a beating passively was never his style, and he now understood... if he wanted to battle An Le today, he absolutely had to smash through this puppet first.
This was a puppet proficient in archery!
Much like a divine archer from the military ranks.
Meng Po had not lacked experience fighting divine archers; there were likewise archers of exceptional skill on the Demon-Inquiring Board.
However, the drawback of a divine archer was far too severe.
That was their extreme weakness in close-quarters combat. As long as Meng Po could close the distance with a divine archer and sever their head, he could easily achieve victory.
Since that was the case, he would close the distance and chop down this divine archer first!
A frantic, scarlet madness flashed in Meng Po's eyes, and innate spiritual energy surged madly from his dantian.
The black mist coiled once more, enveloping the entire alley of Yanchun Lane.
In front of the tavern door, billowing black mist rolled, making it impossible to capture Meng Po's whereabouts.
Suddenly, a blood-red sword tip emerged from the black mist, thrusting forward at an angle to pierce the neck of the battle puppet wearing the silver mask.
Meng Po's figure remained hidden within the black mist, a mad smile hanging on his face as he seemingly already envisioned the head beneath that silver mask tumbling to the ground like a rolling cart wheel.
Suddenly.
That dark iron heavy bow swung back, parrying the blood-red long saber. From beneath the puppet's black robe, a short black spear thrust forward.
It scraped along the blood-red long saber, sending a shower of sparks flying.
Meng Po's pupils contracted. That short spear was moving far too fast; he had no choice but to let go of his blood-colored saber. The moment he relaxed his grip, the blood saber was knocked aside. He attempted to pull his body away, but the pitch-black spear suddenly shot forward like a bolt.
With a soft plop, it pierced straight through his neck.
A bloody flower bloomed, and with a tremendous force, Meng Po's body was forcefully driven backward and nailed heavily into the ground of Yanchun Lane.
The black mist dissipated entirely.
Meng Po was pinned to the ground by the dark spear, gurgling blood bubbling from his mouth. His hands grasped the shaft of the short spear, attempting to pull it out, yet he could not shake the spear by even the slightest fraction.
With a crisp metallic click, the second half of the spear reconnected with the half embedded in Meng Po's neck.
"You? You dare claim invincibility in the Fifth Realm?"
A detached and arrogant voice echoed from beneath the silver mask.
The hulking figure gripped the black spear with a single hand.
Meng Po's eyes widened in horror as he stared in terror at the hulking puppet...
Inside the tavern.
An Le picked up the cyan porcelain wine cup, took a sip of the warm liquor, and casually extracted six strands of ordinary years' breath from Meng Po. Then, he softly spat out a single word between his lips: "Kill."
Threatening him, An Le, with the lives of everyone in the small tavern...
From the moment that man uttered those words, An Le had already mentally sentenced him to death.
The battle puppet shared a tacit understanding with An Le and executed his command with absolute loyalty.
The bifurcated spear was violently yanked out and thrust forward once more, aiming straight for Meng Po's head.
However, the powerful experts who had been watching the battle developments here since the very beginning naturally would not sit idly by.
"Stop!"
A Xiliang Ninth Realm expert shouted coldly, a towering Ninth Realm Xiantai pressure crashing down instantly in an attempt to halt the puppet's movements and rescue Meng Po.
This Ninth Realm expert had simply failed to arrive in time—primarily because Meng Po had been defeated far too quickly!
Yet, before this Xiantai pressure could even descend, it was sliced clean through by a single sword strike.
The Sixth Mountain Master fluttered in green robes, hovering just above the alley like that, single-handedly preventing the Xiliang Ninth Realm expert from taking even a single step forward.
Puff.
The battle puppet's spear descended, and the flame of life in Meng Po's eyes extinguished completely.
The cold rain lashed against his unblinking face, kicking up misty splashes of water.
This genius of Xiliang's Demon-Inquiring Board, who had risen to fame over the past two days and stirred up reckless trouble within Lin'an Prefecture, had thus died within the alley without the slightest ripple.
Heaven and earth fell into a profound silence, leaving only the sound of torrential rain crashing down upon the narrow space above Yanchun Lane, roaring like a waterfall hitting the mortal world.
Outside Yanchun Lane.
The Ninth Realm expert from the Xiliang Kingdom had constricted pupils, looking somewhat dazed and stupefied.
He had never imagined that Meng Po, known as the Little Yama, would actually perish in Lin'an Prefecture just like that.
Inside the tavern.
The commoners had long since fallen silent as cicadas in winter, not daring to draw a loud breath.
After all, the cultivator wrapped in black mist earlier had used their lives as collateral to issue a challenge to An Le, which was tantamount to treating their lives as disposable at any moment.
It made them feel as though they had just walked right past the gates of death.
Even the sharp-tongued female proprietress had trembling hands. No matter how sharp-tongued she was, she was ultimately just an ordinary person; compared to cultivators, the gap between them was as vast as heaven and earth.
An Le glanced briefly at the situation inside the tavern. The sword qi within the Niwan Palace at the center of his brows chimed, his heart-sword trembling and releasing a wave of spiritual fluctuation that diffused and wove through the minds of everyone in the tavern, helping them suppress their fear and conquer the lingering shadows in their hearts.
"Everything is over now. Rest assured," An Le said, taking a sip of aged yellow wine and speaking in a gentle voice.
Soothed by the power of the heart-sword, the proprietress calmed down considerably, her eyes even revealing a look of fervent adoration.
"As expected of Master An, truly remarkable!"
"Such trash actually dared to come and challenge Master An. Master An didn't even have to make a move himself; just a puppet alone was enough to overwhelm him, yet he still dared to boast of a challenge!"
The proprietress danced with excitement, and inside the tavern, the atmosphere among the wine drinkers grew warm and lively once more.
An Le smiled, a peculiar look flashing through his eyes.
Indeed, when An Le said he didn't want to bully them, he wasn't really wrong. After all, An Le had defeated the youthful Emperor Yuan within the battle puppet space.
Now, if these people wanted to challenge him, they had to defeat the puppet first—that much was entirely true.
However... this puppet was actually the youthful Emperor Yuan, the very embodiment of true Fifth Realm invincibility!
Even An Le himself had been easily crushed when he first encountered it!
Claiming it wasn't bullying was, in reality, supreme bullying.
Furthermore, it was bullying to the death. Others didn't know the puppet was the youthful Emperor Yuan, so they would inevitably lower their guard at first. By the time they were shocked by the terrifying power the youthful Emperor Yuan unleashed, they had already fallen behind, essentially condemning them to a path of brutal slaughter.
After all, the youthful Emperor Yuan... was a monster capable of slaying the Seventh Realm.
Comparing his own combat prowess to that of the youthful Emperor Yuan, An Le deduced that his current self ought to be capable of slaying ordinary Seventh Realm experts if he were to fight them.
Even a genius of the Seventh Realm could be fought and defeated.
Outside Yanchun Lane.
Following Meng Po's death, the Sixth Mountain Master ceased his obstruction, drifting gracefully into the tavern. Standing at the doorway, the Sixth Mountain Master fixed his gaze on the battle puppet, a strange look welling up in his eyes.
He had not recognized that the puppet was the youthful Emperor Yuan; after all, he couldn't possibly connect the two together.
The puppet's previously displayed strength in crushing Meng Po filled his heart with considerable astonishment.
"A puppet?" The Sixth Mountain Master narrowed his eyes, a trace of doubt lingering in his mind, though it was nothing more than that. With a cold expression, he pushed open the door, and the moisture kicked up by the rain immediately poured into the tavern.
The Sixth Mountain Master walked over to An Le's spot and sat opposite him.
An Le personally poured a cup of wine for the Sixth Mountain Master, offering no explanation because he couldn't explain it, and thus couldn't be bothered to try.
The Sixth Mountain Master's mind raced with numerous thoughts: An Le's magnificent methods of borrowing power, his mastery of Mount Qinggang to awaken the Will of the First Emperor slumbering for ten millennia within the sword, and that Blood Guanyin on the Canglang River that summoned the strike to slay Tong Guan...
An Le possessed countless methods, the origins of which were completely untraceable.
Clearly, An Le harbored karmic opportunities uniquely his own.
Naturally, the Sixth Mountain Master would not pry excessively into such fortunes.
"Drink this cup of wine, and let us go seek the mountain."
An Le smiled: "Very well."
...
Drunken Dragon Pavilion.
The floor occupied by the geniuses of the Xiliang Kingdom.
Dead silence reigned.
Outside, the torrential rain roared and battered the eaves of dark tiles, weaving a curtain of water.
Inside the room, the fragrance of fine wine and the aroma of dishes still lingered, but the geniuses of Xiliang no longer possessed the heart to eat or drink.
Meng Po was dead.
Gu Naihe, possessing an exquisitely alluring figure, leaned against the railing, gazing at the storm outside with her red lips pouting slightly in a display of faint melancholy.
"Why did he have to die? I was still waiting for him to lose to An Le so I could give him a little comfort. Such a pity..."
A sigh drifted from Gu Naihe's red lips.
"And then suck dry his vital essence?" Gu Huangquan glanced sideways at her and remarked.
"Oh, brother, you're so hateful!"
Gu Naihe said petulantly, "Meng Po is a genius of our Xiliang Kingdom after all, and his master is King Chujiang, one of the Ten Yamas. How could I possibly do something like sucking him dry? At most... at most, I'd only drink seven or eight tenths of it."
Gu Huangquan's face revealed a mocking sneer: "Then aren't you still planning to drink it?"
"During these two days in Lin'an, you've already drained several cultivators from the Academy. It's about time you stopped. After all, this isn't the Xiliang capital; without grandfather to protect us, we can't afford to be too unbridled."
"I know, I know! So what kind of person killed Meng Po? An Le claimed it was a puppet... but can a Fifth Realm puppet kill Meng Po that easily? Even the top-tier Fifth Realm corpse puppet in brother's hands... would find it hard to do so, right?" A look of puzzled doubt flashed in Gu Naihe's big eyes.
Gu Huangquan pondered for a moment, a trace of excitement flashing in the depths of his eyes, and said: "Word has it that the Old Celestial Master of the Celestial Master Mansion once gifted that unimaginably precious Millennium Purple Qi Lotus to An Le. This puppet... perhaps it's related to the Celestial Master Mansion."
"The Daoist sect excels in arcane arts, talisman techniques, and mysterious yellow arts. Within the Daoist sect, there exists a talisman-armor technique. This puppet was most likely crafted by the Old Celestial Master and gifted to An Le," Gu Huangquan said, sticking out his tongue to lick his lips.
Gu Naihe nodded: "Using this puppet to block everyone who wants to challenge him sure saves a lot of trouble..."
"Brother, you said that to challenge An Le, one must first defeat this puppet. Do you think An Le's own strength would be greater than this puppet's?"
Hearing this, a flash of bloodthirsty madness flickered in the depths of Gu Huangquan's eyes: "Hard to say... but at the very least, it won't be too far behind. If his personal strength fell too far short of the puppet's, it would be difficult to properly control such a puppet."
"Regardless, I am extremely interested in this puppet. Perhaps... it can push my corpse puppet techniques a step further!"
However, the bloodlust in Gu Huangquan's eyes quickly subsided. Not a single cultivator who had come from the Xiliang Kingdom was entirely normal.
"For now, do not go challenging An Le. That puppet... any of the geniuses from our Xiliang Demon-Inquiring Board who goes would simply be marching to their death."
"Let's wait for the Seventh Mountain to open. When that time comes, we'll get to witness the true face of this puppet."
Gu Huangquan did not lower his voice, and everyone on the floor heard it clearly, none of them raising any objection.
Meng Po was already dead; if they went... they truly would just be marching to their deaths.
However, the geniuses on the Demon-Inquiring Board felt no emotional fluctuations whatsoever regarding Meng Po's death—just a momentary shock at first, followed by utter indifference.
After all, the turnover rate on the Demon-Inquiring Board... was simply too frequent.
The current Demon-Inquiring Board had yet to produce a leader-level figure capable of suppressing all other geniuses, and Meng Po had only held the top spot for half a month anyway.
Gu Naihe leaned back against the railing once more, taking a deep breath of the sweet, rainy air of Lin'an Prefecture.
"I wonder what kind of maiden... Master An might fancy?"
...
Still in the Drunken Dragon Pavilion, on an upper floor.
Tieli, Wotai, Tuzhen, Boqi, and other geniuses of the Yuanmeng Empire's Falcon Board all stood by the railing, their sharp gazes piercing through the curtain of rain.
The atmosphere was somewhat heavy, stern, and even... tinged with a murderous chill.
"That bouncing number one on Xiliang's Demon-Inquiring Board... is dead."
White-robed Boqi spoke up. He was the grandson of the Yuanmeng Prime Minister Boye, and his father, Boke, had died on the battlefield, cleaved clean in two by a single sword strike of Ye Longsheng's River Full of Red.
Consequently, a seed of revenge had always been buried deep within Boqi's heart.
Unfortunately, his strength fell far short when facing Ye Longsheng, and Prime Minister Boqi could not afford to act recklessly to kill Ye Longsheng, for the Prime Minister's heart was tied to the entirety of Yuanmeng.
Ge Xiao'e, the only maiden among the group, widened her eyes.
"He's just dead like that? He died so fast... Meng Po's strength was actually quite good. Even if I were to face him, I'm afraid there's a possibility I might have lost."
Ge Xiao'e took a deep breath. As the only dual-Fifth Realm perfection genius on the Yuanmeng Empire's Falcon Board, she was naturally confident against Meng Po, but she couldn't claim she could kill Meng Po with such speed.
"And that was merely An Le's puppet..."
For the first time, Ge Xiao'e felt the terrifying nature of An Le.
He had merely produced a puppet, yet within a few moves, it had slaughtered Meng Po.
What about An Le's own personal strength then?
Anyone who wanted to control such a powerful puppet would certainly have personal strength not falling too far behind the puppet itself. If that were the case, facing An Le meant that aside from dealing with this puppet, one would also have to face An Le... Just thinking about it brought an immense wave of pressure!
"Brother Tieli, tell me... when you reached the Fifth Realm perfection, if you faced An Le... could you win?"
Ge Xiao'e asked with a solemn expression.
However, the hulking Tieli, standing before the railing, trembled slightly all over his body, yet he did not answer Ge Xiao'e's question.
Everyone froze, their gazes shifting toward Tieli, only to discover that an expression of inexplicable... shock was plastered across Tieli's face.
"Cannot win. Absolutely cannot win. In fact... I would probably be defeated even faster than Xiliang's Meng Po."
Tieli spoke.
His words left everyone present gasping for breath.
Tieli's answer delivered a genuine shock to their minds. Could it be that Tieli honestly believed he couldn't even compare to Xiliang's Meng Po?
In their eyes, that Meng Po... was worth less than dirt.
Tieli shook his head, his voice seeming to carry a tremor.
"That puppet An Le brought out... in it, I seemed to see... the shadow of His Majesty!"
...
Within the Qin Prime Minister's Estate, among the waterside pavilions.
The torrential rain roared and battered down, causing the water in the small pool within the pavilion to swell drastically. Raindrops smashed into the pool's surface, creating widening ripples, each droplet bouncing off the water like boiling water dancing upon a drum surface.
In the leisure pavilion.
Qin Lishi wore relaxed casual attire as he sat upright on a hollowed-out stone stool. A chessboard was set before him, scattered with glistening, translucent black and white Go stones, and sitting opposite him was Qin Huaian.
Having experienced his defeat against An Le during the Imperial Examination, Qin Huaian's state of mind had grown considerably more solid, and much of his impatience had faded from his demeanor.
Father and son played against each other, the Go stones dropping onto the board with crisp clicks. Accompanied by the sound of rain, it possessed quite a bit of leisurely charm.
Before long, a figure dressed in black and wearing a coir raincoat slowly materialized within the leisure pavilion, cupping his fists toward Qin Lishi: "Prime Minister, in Yanchun Lane, Meng Po was killed within a few moves by the puppet tossed out by An Le."
Oh?
Qin Lishi's movement of holding a Go stone stalled momentarily.
Shock surfaced in Qin Huaian's eyes as well. Meng Po had consecutively defeated Sima Pudu and Wang Qilin, possessing such strength... Qin Huaian asked himself and knew he stood no chance of winning against him.
"What realm is that puppet..."
"Fifth Realm."
"If a puppet can kill Meng Po, then An Le killing Meng Po should be even easier." Qin Lishi sighed: "This boy... has already grown into a formidable climate."
An Le's growth speed was truly too fast, and his hidden trump cards were numerous. Even Qin Lishi could no longer guarantee whether dispatching a Ninth Realm cultivator could successfully kill An Le.
On the Canglang River, An Le had turned the tables and slain Tong Guan...
Could An Le unleash that Blood Guanyin trump card once again?
Although subjectively he felt it was difficult—how could one constantly possess such a trump card?—Qin Lishi couldn't be certain.
By now, An Le's personal strength perhaps had already reached an unfathomable degree. If someone wanted to kill him, they would at least need to dispatch a peak Seventh Realm cultivator to have a chance, and perhaps an Eighth Realm cultivator would be the safest bet.
To possess such crushing pressure before even stepping into the Upper Five Realms... once An Le broke through the barrier and stepped into the Sixth Realm—forging his physical body and sea of qi, refining spirit and ascending to the mist...
At that point, even Eighth Realm cultivators might not be able to guarantee a sure kill against An Le.
"A monstrous talent..."
Qin Lishi sighed with emotion.
He glanced at the dejected Qin Huaian sitting opposite him. As his only offspring, Qin Lishi had once thought Qin Huaian's talent was passable, but compared to An Le...
The gap was simply too vast.
"The feud of a lifetime... how can it ever be avenged?"
Qin Lishi narrowed his eyes.
Losing the mood to play chess, he stood up and gazed at the ceaselessly bouncing raindrops on the surface of the small pool.
"Continue playing this game by yourself. Do not entertain any thoughts of dealing with An Le anymore; as you are now, you are simply unworthy."
Qin Lishi said to Qin Huaian with his hands clasped behind his back.
"I don't wish to end up without even a final son left."
With those words, Qin Lishi stepped forward into the rain curtain. The rainwater parted from above his head like a curtain of cloth, failing to touch his body by even a fraction.
Step by step, he walked out of the estate and headed toward the imperial palace.
Qin Lishi felt that relying on his own power to kill An Le was no longer feasible...
However, the Emperor of the Zhao family still possessed that capability.
He needed to make the Zhao family's emperor feel the threat posed by An Le and make the emperor resolute in his decision to eliminate An Le.
...
Meng Po's corpse was taken away by the Ninth Realm expert from the Xiliang Kingdom.
The blood was washed away by the accumulated water in the alley, leaving not a single trace behind, save for the spiderweb-like cracks left by their clash.
An Le retrieved a Primeval Spirit Coin and handed it to the female proprietress.
"Proprietress, pour me another pot of wine, and keep the change."
An Le smiled: "My apologies for the trouble today, but rest assured, such incidents will not happen again."
A Primeval Spirit Coin was worth a small fortune, and the proprietress knew this was silver given by An Le to soothe everyone's nerves. Thus, she accepted it casually and didn't push it back.
"What is Master An saying? It's a rare blessing today because of Master An that we mortals got to witness the world of cultivators firsthand..."
"Still, I must say, the world of cultivators is truly thrilling! It's just a pity that we mortals lack the qualification to step into it."
The proprietress sighed with emotion.
An Le smiled gently: "Ordinary people have ordinary ways of living; ordinariness is not necessarily a bad thing. The mortal world's hearth and home... is something many cultivators yearn for in their dreams."
The proprietress half-understood his words.
Understanding it or not mattered little. The proprietress scanned the wine patrons inside the shop and laughed: "Everyone is in for a treat today; all tabs are paid for by Master An."
"Drink to your heart's content, everyone."
Afterward, the proprietress smilingly went to fetch a new pot of aged yellow wine for An Le.
An Le took the wine and left the tavern alongside the Sixth Mountain Master.
Their figures gradually grew hazy and vanished into the rain curtain of the long street.
The proprietress stared blankly at the departing An Le, a trace of awe finally welling up in the depths of her eyes.
...
An Le held an oil-paper umbrella and put away the battle puppet. The puppet vanished into thin air, causing the Sixth Mountain Master, who stood with arms crossed and a chillingly stern expression, to experience a flicker in his eyes.
The two of them walked out of Yanchun Lane together.
Waves of powerful spiritual perception immediately swept over them, though upon drawing closer, they all prudently reeled their senses back.
After all, the deterrent presence of the Sixth Mountain Master was very much real. If one were to anger this cold-hearted Mountain Master through reckless probing, the consequences would likely be difficult to handle.
"An Le, since you are currently in the vicinity of Lin'an Prefecture, choose a mountain in the surrounding area to serve as the location for your dialogue with the Saint Master. Furthermore, the Seventh Mountain will take root as the mountain body you choose," said the Sixth Mountain Master.
An Le nodded, glancing at the Sixth Mountain Master and suppressing the urge to extract years' breath from him.
Because he was about to converse with the Saint Master, An Le wanted to save this opportunity to see if he could extract years' breath from the Saint Master himself.
The two walked all the way along the main thoroughfare of the Imperial Avenue. The Sixth Mountain Master remained untouched by rain throughout his body, while An Le sheltered himself from the rain curtain beneath his oil-paper umbrella.
One wore green robes and carried a thick, heavy pine wood sword case; the other wore white robes with a bamboo sword tucked at his waist. Both cut striking figures of differing temperaments among the lineage of swordsmen.
Arriving at the gates of Lin'an City, the numerous tailing spiritual perceptions all shuddered violently!
They were well aware that An Le and the Sixth Mountain Master leaving Lin'an Prefecture had only one purpose...
That was to seek out a mountain, and for An Le to go and converse with the Saint Master!
The place where An Le conversed with the Saint Master... would become the future Seventh Mountain, and the Saint Master's trial would descend upon that very mountain!
The Seventh Mountain, the Seventh Holy Mountain—if one could become its Mountain Master, ascend the holy mountain, and become a disciple of the Saint Master, their future would be boundless.
Throughout the long expanse of time, the Mountain Masters who became disciples of the Saint Master were virtually all able to break through into the Tenth Realm. Although these Mountain Masters would eventually fade from the mortal world once their lifespans neared their limits, rumors had it that upon reaching their limits, they were brought by the Saint Master to the legendary "Holy Realm," where their lifespans were prolonged and they were granted even greater longevity to challenge the Eleventh Realm.
This was precisely why the Holy Mountains transcended the mortal world. Although the Mountain Masters were not the strongest in terms of raw worldly power, their transcendent status was granted because of the Saint Master.
An Le and the Sixth Mountain Master stepped outside the gates of Lin'an City. Outside the city, the rain curtain battered down, turning heaven and earth a hazy gray where not even a glimpse of the distant cold mountains' faint outlines could be caught.
An Le held his oil-paper umbrella aloft, gazing into the hazy, gray expanse of heaven and earth as he narrowed his eyes.
"There are dozens of cold mountains here; choose one among them to be the Seventh Mountain."
The Sixth Mountain Master said.
As his words fell, the Sixth Mountain Master raised his hand, and the pine wood sword case opened by an inch. A multicoloured sword flashed and flew out from within.
With a flick of his finger, the multicoloured sword suddenly shot forward like a rainbow.
The boundless curtain of rain was instantly cleaved in two, revealing—before An Le's eyes—a series of cold mountains shrouded in mist and rain.
One could say this was the prestige belonging to the one chosen to converse with the Saint Master: holding the qualification to select the Seventh Mountain. Even if they failed to become the Mountain Master in the future, the birth of the Seventh Mountain would remain inextricably linked to them.
Back then, Li You'an had chosen a mountain, but unfortunately, for reasons unknown, the Seventh Mountain that should have opened at that time had been postponed by the Saint Master.
"Take your time and choose. This is your right and your glory."
The Sixth Mountain Master said.
An Le nodded and slowly closed his eyes.
Inside Lin'an Prefecture, an increasing amount of spiritual perception intertwined and diffused, gathering outside the city walls to stare at the young man standing in the pouring rain, holding his oil-paper umbrella.
Within the Xuan-Tian Palace, the Emperor of the Zhao family sat high upon his imperial throne, raising his gaze to look out beyond Lin'an Prefecture.
Qin Lishi, who had just entered the palace gates, also halted his words. He turned his head and released his spiritual perception, following this spectacle with rapt attention.
Within the Academy, inside a thatched cottage, Grand Master Zhu Huoxi was expounding his Confucian doctrines to his students, while Liu Yue sat quietly and attentively among them listening.
Suddenly, Zhu Huoxi raised his gaze, cutting off his lecture as he looked beyond Lin'an Prefecture.
Beneath the stele house of the Wenqu Stele, where rain washed down, Second Master Pang Ji stood with his hands clasped behind his back, likewise gazing outside the city.
On top of the Drunken Dragon Pavilion.
The geniuses of the Yuanmeng Falcon Board, who had fallen into contemplation, all snapped back to their senses.
Tieli's hulking body leaped straight out from the upper floor of the Drunken Dragon Pavilion, shattering the rain curtain and landing heavily on the long street.
Boqi, Wotai, Tuzhen, Ge Xiao'e, and the others all followed suit, walking through the rain curtain and heading toward the gates on foot.
Gu Huangquan and Gu Naihe also led the geniuses of the Xiliang Demon-Inquiring Board out of the Drunken Dragon Pavilion. As for the deceased Meng Po, no one paid him any further attention; even though he had once brought glory to Xiliang by defeating Sima Pudu and Wang Qilin of the Lesser Saint Board in succession, once dead, he was merely yesterday's withered flower to the Xiliang geniuses, utterly worthless.
Lu Ziwei grasped the deep blue sword concealed within its scabbard, her gaze sweeping over the geniuses of the Yuanmeng Falcon Board and the Xiliang Demon-Inquiring Board strolling down the Imperial Avenue.
She too fluttered out, her aura unleashed as she led the geniuses of the Dali Kingdom's Star Board in close pursuit.
Aside from these three factions, there were other solitary figures walking along the long street.
The Young Goddess of Ganye Temple possessed an exquisitely beautiful visage. Clad in a white long dress and walking barefoot, her thirty-three thousand strands of worldly vexations were coiled up and secured with a purple bamboo hairpin. As she chanted Buddhist scriptures, the surrounding rainwater seemed to warp around her.
The Buddhist Son of Lianhua Temple wore fiery red monastic robes, with twenty-four golden lotus-petal talismans hanging from his waist, each carved with the image of a Buddha. Twenty-four talismans, twenty-four Buddha images.
His Buddhist light shone brilliantly like a reincarnated Buddha walking the earth; before the rainwater could even fall, it was vaporized into steam.
Then there was the mortal walker of Lankajirata Temple—likewise a bald monk, yet clad in a deep blue monastic robe. Handsome and refined, he looked thoroughly ordinary, yet divine light radiated naturally from behind him.
The proud sons and daughters of the three great Buddhist temples walked the streets of Lin'an separately.
Even people like Tieli had their gazes drawn, their expressions turning stern.
Furthermore, there were the Daoist Child of Zhenwu Temple and the Young Celestial Master of the Celestial Master Mansion. The two looked much of an age, both wearing Daoist robes, crowned with jade headwear, carrying peach wood swords on their backs, and stepping in black-and-white checkered cloth shoes as they drifted out from within the rain curtain.
The sole difference was that the Young Celestial Master's Daoist robe was pitch black, while the Zhenwu Temple Daoist Child's robe was pure white.
The intertwining of black and white resembled the collision of Yin and Yang.
Lin'an Prefecture under the torrential rain ought to have been quiet, yet due to the arrival of these figures, it instantly turned bustling and lively.
All of them headed toward the city gates, quickly meeting and converging outside.
Naturally, each faction stood in their own spot, gazing from afar at the young man who held an oil-paper umbrella and stood quietly in the rain outside the city gate.
On the post road outside Lin'an Prefecture, a red-robed maiden wearing a bamboo rain hat slowly walked forward. Radiant light bloomed behind her, making it seem as though she were supporting her own body as she stepped into the starry dome.
Lifting her head, her peerless visage seemed to melt into the mist and rain. The newcomer was none other than Ye Wenxi, who had rushed back from the battlefield of the Canglang River. The reason she had taken so many days to arrive in Lin'an was because she had broken through the barrier of the dual Sixth Realm on the Canglang River battlefield.
She soon came to a halt, standing quietly in the distance to gaze.
At this moment, An Le seemed to become the absolute focal point of heaven and earth.
Because his choice would become the new focus of the world, he naturally became the center of all attention.
Heaven and earth fell into absolute solemnity.
No one spoke a word, and even their breathing slowed.
All eyes were locked fixedly upon the young man holding the oil-paper umbrella, standing quietly with his eyes closed.
The geniuses of Yuanmeng, Dali, and Xiliang, as well as the geniuses of Great Zhao who had walked out from within Lin'an Prefecture—Wang Qilin, who had been defeated by Meng Po; Sima Pudu, with his pale complexion; and Qin Huaian, possessing an air of detachment among the Lesser Saint Board geniuses—were all watching An Le.
The heavy rain battered the ground like the thundering hooves and battle drums of a charging army of thousands.
An Le slowly opened his eyes, looking toward the distant cold mountains revealed and laid bare by the parting sword qi.
In his eyes, those cold mountains seemed to have sharp sword qi surging upward from them, rising high as if striving for transcendence!
The mountains possessed a spirit, their sharp aura erupting like sword qi, piercing the Dipper and Wolf stars, surging straight into the clouds!
All to be chosen by An Le!
An Le's gaze ultimately landed upon that mountain whose sword qi seemed to scatter the twilight clouds.
A smile curved the corners of his lips.
Raising his hand, he flicked his finger lightly against Mount Qinggang at his waist.
Mount Qinggang emitted a low hum, then darted out from his waist, transforming into a stream of sword light.
An Le folded his oil-paper umbrella, took a single step forward, and his figure seemed to merge completely into the sword light as he shot rapidly toward the distant chosen cold mountain!
The corners of the Sixth Mountain Master's lips curled upward. He knew An Le had made his choice.
Following An Le's departure, the geniuses within Lin'an Prefecture looked at one another, and then successively unleashed their auras.
Like a flock of egrets over a full river, they embarked on a mutual struggle for transcendence.
This was a gathering of the absolute pinnacle youthful prodigies of the entire world.
The Daoist Child and the Young Celestial Master smiled. Clouds and mist surged beneath their feet as if they were riding the wind, chasing after An Le.
The heirs of the three great Buddhist temples—the Young Goddess, the Lankajirata Walker, and the Lianhua Buddhist Son—also slowly stepped forward. Yet the earth beneath their feet seemed to continuously contract and shrink, resembling the divine ability of shrinking the earth into an inch.
Ye Wenxi stirred her sword qi, parting the flowing clouds as the maiden rode her sword upon the wind, tightly pursuing them.
Tieli, Wotai, Boqi, and Tuzhen went all out, their blood qi surging and blasting the rain into vapor as they shot out like streaks of light.
At this moment, the gray sky even seemed to brighten considerably, brought to life by the dazzling display of these geniuses.
Everyone maintained nearly identical speeds, for they could not surpass An Le. An Le was the one choosing the mountain; if they were to outstrip him, they would have no idea which mountain had been chosen.
Yet within that limited distance, they fiercely vied with one another.
The Daoist Child and the Young Celestial Master competed; the successors of the three great Buddhist temples competed; the prodigies of the Falcon Board and the heirs of top-tier pugilistic sects competed...
The rain poured heavily, waiting for no one.
Their rivalry had already begun right here on the road to find the Seventh Mountain.
An Le's spiritual perception sensed the situation behind him, but he cared not, nor could he be bothered to care.
A brilliance shattered the beaded curtain of rain as An Le sped ahead wrapped within the sword qi of Mount Qinggang, followed closely by the swarm of prodigies trailing behind him!
Rumble!
High above the vault of heaven, fierce thunder churned behind the clouds!
An Le plummeted downward amid the sword light. Mount Qinggang trembled slightly before being grasped by An Le and tucked back into his waist.
The mist and clouds among the mountains slowly dispersed.
An Le looked upon this familiar mountain, a smile curling the corners of his lips.
Mountains are nameless by nature; drinking under the pines came to support me, hence named Fusong (Supporting the Pines).
Destiny is wondrous beyond words.
An Le smiled, reopened his oil-paper umbrella, and held it aloft like a blooming flower at the foot of the mountain.
White robes surpassing snow, Mount Qinggang at his waist, holding a jar of yellow wine.
To ascend the mountain and converse with the Saint Master.
(End of chapter)